


Come to my window

by BecauseImClassy



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-03 23:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10261412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseImClassy/pseuds/BecauseImClassy
Summary: A crime wave is sweeping the city, and it's wearing Matt out. After a difficult night, he turns to Karen for comfort.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Matt and Karen have reconciled, post-season 2. It's early in the relationship, and they're still working on figuring out work/life balance issues.
> 
> Incidentally, It's been a little over a year now since I started posting here. 16 works so far, and 119,000 words, and I want to thank everyone who chooses to spend their time reading the things that come out of my brain. Thank you all, I really appreciate it!

Matt made his way home over the rooftops, weary and aching. It was late, and he wanted nothing more than a hot shower, and then bed. Preferably for at least ten hours, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Protecting the city and getting a decent night’s sleep seemed to be mutually exclusive, and he was feeling the cumulative effects of shorting himself for too many nights in a row.

But what was worse than physical fatigue was his emotional fatigue. These days he wasn’t fighting the grandiose plans of Wilson Fisk, and if the Hand were still active, they were hiding their activities too well for him to trace them. Instead, he was fighting a seemingly endless tide of crime on a smaller, individual scale, and it was wearing him down.

A wave of violence was sweeping the city, criminals emboldened by the Punisher’s escape and the murder of District Attorney Reyes. No matter how many crimes he stopped, there were always more. No matter how many criminals he took off the streets, there were always more waiting to take their place. His nights had become a relentless stream of robberies, muggings, attempted rape, attempted murder, assaults of all kinds, a never-ending display of the terrible things people were willing to do to each other for their own gain.

He had done a good night’s work tonight, but he took little satisfaction in it, oppressed by the sheer scale of the battle he was fighting. He felt overwhelmed, like he was trying to melt a glacier with a single lit match. He knew he wasn’t alone in the fight—the police were doing their best. But on nights like tonight, when he had driven himself to exhaustion, it was all too easy to feel heartsick and despondent.

His route home took him through the neighborhood where Karen lived, and he paused on the roof of her building to scan the area and make sure no danger threatened. Everything was quiet. He turned to go, but suddenly, the thought of Karen filled him with longing—even more than a shower and bed, he wanted _her._

They were dating again, secrets told, sins forgiven, but they hadn’t had much time for each other lately. Karen had dived into her new job at the Bulletin, determined to prove herself, and the current crime wave was providing an abundance of stories for her to cover. She was immersed in following leads and researching background, then racing to get her articles written and submitted by deadline.

And Matt, in addition to his nighttime activities, was working hard by day to keep his law practice afloat on his own. He and Foggy were back on speaking terms, but Matt wouldn’t ask him to leave his new job, his new success, to come back to a broke, struggling firm. And it was hard work doing everything himself, even with as few clients as he currently had.

So he and Karen weren’t spending nearly as much time together as either of them would have liked. They spoke on the phone often, but they were both too busy to do more than meet up for a quick lunch or dinner here and there, occasionally finding enough time to fall into bed together for an hour or so.

Now, standing on Karen’s roof, Matt wanted her company, missing her with a painful intensity. She was a beacon of warmth in the cold night, and he was so tired. Tired of human suffering and cruelty and desperation, tired of flinging himself into the fight night after night, wearing himself out only to find just as much trouble the next time he went out. Even as he told himself he shouldn’t bother her, it was the middle of the night, he should just go home and let her sleep, he was already climbing down to her window.

* * * * *

Karen woke suddenly, unsure what had roused her. She hadn’t been dreaming, and her apartment was quiet—was that a tap on her window? Before she could take alarm, she heard a familiar voice through the glass.

“Karen? Karen, it’s me.”

Matt. But that was just alarming for different reasons. Why would he come to her at this hour? Was he all right? She got out of bed and hurried to open the window.

He climbed inside and shut the window, and she made sure the blinds were firmly closed before she turned on her bedside lamp.

“Matt, what’s wrong?” He staggered a little, and leaned heavily against the wall, and she saw blood on his chin from a split lip. “You’re bleeding, are you hurt?”

He shook his head. “Just…tired.” He was finding it hard to speak, the lump of futility and unhappiness in his chest rising up into his throat. What was he doing here? He shouldn’t have disturbed her.

Karen watched him closely. He might not be hurt, but something was definitely wrong. She went to him and loosened his mask with gentle fingers, lifting it away so she could see his face properly. He looked pale, exhausted and miserable.

She took him in her arms, and he made a small choked sound and buried his face in her hair, clutching her tightly.

“I’m here, love, I’ve got you,” she murmured, holding him close and running her fingers through his sweaty hair. It wasn’t really surprising that doing what he did night after night would take a toll on him. But he’d given her no hint the last time they spoke that things were any worse than usual. Had something particular happened tonight, or had he been concealing how bad things really were?

If he had…well. He had promised he wouldn’t lie to her any more, but he was still adjusting to the fact that he didn’t have to hide anything from her now, and secrecy was a lifelong habit for him that must be difficult to break. And they had so little time together lately that they both tried to make that time as happy as possible. When they got the chance to talk, he didn’t go into much detail about his Daredevil activities, preferring to talk about his day job, or hear about hers. If he had been glossing over the darker facts, well, so had she, not dwelling on the inevitable frustrations of her life.

At least he was here now. Whatever was troubling him, he had come to her tonight, instead of hiding it and insisting he was fine. She felt a warm surge of affection, and protectiveness, and rubbed his back, feeling the chill of the night air clinging to his suit.

Matt felt some of the tension leave him at the feel of Karen’s arms around him, her fingers soothing in his hair. He drank her in, gratefully letting her fill all his senses. Her heart beat steady and comforting in his ears, while her voice murmured reassurance. He breathed in her familiar smell, trying to ignore the metallic tang of his own blood. Her body was warm against him, even muted by the tough layer of body armor, and soft under his gloved hands. 

He heaved a deep sigh and sagged against her, his fierce grip loosening a little. He rubbed his face in the silky softness of her hair, and felt her cheek curve in a smile.

She held him quietly for several minutes. When he finally straightened up and drew back, she studied his face carefully. His color was better, and so was his expression—he looked grim and sad, but not so hopeless any more. Good.

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand and leading him down the hall to the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She turned on the light and closed the lid of the toilet, giving him a gentle push so he sat down. She ran a washcloth under the tap, then tipped his face up and dabbed at the blood on his chin.

“Karen, you don’t have to…” he protested, reaching for the cloth, but she didn’t let go.

“I want to,” she told him. She bent down to kiss one corner of his mouth, then the other, carefully avoiding his split lip. “Let me take care of you, for once.”

Her touch was gentle, and comforting, and he really didn’t want her to stop. “All right,” he whispered, and dropped his hands.

“Take your gloves off,” she suggested, and he obeyed, while she rinsed out the cloth and cleaned the dried sweat from his face. Then she took up his hands and inspected them for signs of damage, checking his knuckles for blood. “Any other injuries?” she asked, looking closely at the suit for any tears or holes.

“No, nothing else. Just bruises.” He leaned forward wearily and wrapped his arms around her hips, resting his head against her stomach. She wore only her underpants and an old, soft t-shirt, but he was far too tired to appreciate that fact the way he would have otherwise. It was enough just to hold her, and _rest,_ feeling her arms curve around his shoulders, the fingers of one hand slipping inside his collar to stroke the back of his neck.

“What happened tonight?” she asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed, his cheek pressed against her, feeling the rise and fall of her stomach as she breathed. “It wasn’t any one particular thing,” he said. “It’s just…everything.”

“It’s been bad out there lately,” she agreed sympathetically. “There’s so much violence, it never seems to end. It’s discouraging enough just reporting on it, it must be worse for you to be in the middle of it all.”

He shuddered slightly. “I think I’d rather not talk about it. Not tonight, anyway.” He tipped his head up so she could see his face. “I’m not trying to shut you out, I just think I’ll only get upset all over again if I talk about it right now.”

“All right, I won’t ask.” She kissed his forehead. “But any time you do want to talk about things, you can. You know that, right?”

“I know.” The ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

“Good.” She cupped his face between her hands for a moment, thumbs caressing his cheekbones. Then she kissed him again, between his eyebrows, and helped him to his feet. They walked back to the bedroom and sat down on the bed together.

“Take off your shoes,” she said.

“I can’t stay,” he objected.

“Not all night, no,” she agreed. “You don’t want to be seen leaving here, in broad daylight, dressed like that.” They were both aware of the possible danger to her, if any of Daredevil’s enemies discovered he had a girlfriend. “But you can stay a while longer.” She moved up the bed until she was sitting among the pillows. From the look of him, he’d be asleep in no time if they lay down. “So take off your shoes, and come here.” She held out her arms invitingly.

He took off his shoes, and crawled up the bed to join her. He sat between her legs, turned sideways with his legs curled up, and slipped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder with a tired sigh. She wrapped her arms around him.

“What time is it?” he asked.

She glanced at the clock. “About 2:30,” she answered.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” he said. “You’ve been working such long hours, you don’t get enough sleep as it is.”

“Look who’s talking,” she retorted, running gentle fingers through his hair once more.

 _Fair point._ “Still,” he insisted, “I shouldn’t be making you lose even more sleep. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” she answered, going on quickly when he opened his mouth to argue. “No, I mean it. Just listen.” She paused, getting her thoughts in order. “You lead a double life, and I don’t want to be relegated to just one part of it. I care about all of you, Daredevil _and_ Matt. For you to come here like this, it tells me that you’re willing to let me into this part of your life, too, not just the safe, daytime part.”

“I hadn’t thought of it quite like that,” he admitted thoughtfully. “I don’t want to shut you out. Both parts of me care about you, too, and want to be with you. But I do want you to be safe, and this part of my life isn’t safe.”

“It’s not safe for you, either, that’s why I want to help. I wish I could protect you somehow from getting hurt. But I can give you this, at least.” She tightened her arms around him, and rested her cheek on the top of his head. “It isn’t much, but I’m glad you’re here, so I can at least _try_ to help you.”

“You do help me,” he answered softly. “Don’t think it isn’t much. It _is_.”

“So stop apologizing for coming to me. You always think you can do it all alone, with no help from anyone else.”

“Look who’s talking,” he retorted, smiling a little against her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help smiling back. “We are talking about _you_ right now, Daredevil. And it’s a _good thing_ that you’re here now, letting me help you.” Her fingers found his cheek, and stroked over the stubbled roughness of his jaw. “You can ask, you can wake me, when you really need to. I’m here for you.”

He reached up to touch her face. “Does that mean I get to help you, too, when you’re upset?”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” she answered. He was right, she was no better at asking for help than he was. “I don’t want to shut you out, either. But I do wish we could manage to make more time for each other. It would be easier to ask for support if I’m not thinking, ‘This is the first time I’ve seen you in days, I don’t want to spoil it.’”

“I do that, too,” he admitted.

“And I really like this,” she continued, running a hand up and down his arm. “Just sitting and talking, and being close, without either of us having to rush off.”

“Me, too.” He ran his nose along her collarbone. It was amazing how easily she had lifted him out of his earlier bleak despondency. He had felt saturated with violence and suffering; but her company, her voice, her touch, were the best possible reminders of the kindness and love that still existed in the world along with the pain. He couldn’t abandon the city to its predators, but he could give Karen more of his time than he had been.

He had taken her for granted the first time around, treating their fledgling relationship as something he could put aside, that would be there waiting for him whenever he was ready to come back to it. He couldn’t let himself make that mistake again.

“You’re right,” he told her. “We should try to spend more time together.”

“Good,” she whispered, and kissed his head. As much as she wanted to have more time with him, she understood how driven he was to fight crime, so it was a relief to hear him agree with her. She didn’t want him to feel like she was making him choose between them. And anyway, their lack of time together wasn’t all due to him. She knew how single-minded she could be when she was pursuing a story. Surely she could be better about distinguishing between things that had to be done right now, and things that would still be there waiting for her if she put them off for a night.

“It feels like it’s been years since we spent the night together,” she said wistfully. “And not just because of you, either. I’ve been spending plenty of late nights in the archives. But I can free up some time if you can.”

“I can. I will,” he promised.

“Wouldn’t it be great,” she mused, “if you could just climb out of that suit, and get into bed with me right now, and we could go to sleep together?”

“God, Karen, I’d love that.” He dropped a hand to her bare leg, and stroked her thigh. As tired as he was, he still loved the feel of her skin. The thought of stripping down to his underwear and lying down with her, bodies touching without the barrier of the suit between them, sounded like heaven. He tried to make the most of what he had, working his other hand up under the hem of her shirt, and pressing his face into her neck.

“Do you think you might want to keep a change of clothes here?” she asked. “I don’t suppose this is going to happen often, you stopping by all suited up, but in case of emergency…”

He nodded. “That’s a good idea. What about…do you think you might want to spend the night at my place sometimes, when I’m going out? You could bring your work with you, and go to bed whenever you want, I wouldn’t want you to wait up for me. I mean, I guess you’d still wake up when I came in. I don’t want to make you lose sleep…”

“Maybe on weekends,” she suggested. “Nights when neither of us has to be up early the next day. Then we could sleep late in the morning. Or something.” Her voice took on a suggestive note, and he smiled against her skin.

“Or something,” he agreed.

She tipped his face up so she could kiss his cheek, and smiled back. “Yeah, I’d definitely do that.”

His smile grew wider, and he felt happier than he had in days.

Karen knew he must be feeling better, to smile like that. “Is there anything else you need to do tonight?” she asked.

“No. I was on my way home when I stopped here. I _thought_ all I wanted was to go home and sleep, but once I was on your roof, I just…I wanted you.” He tucked his face back into her neck, and she stroked his hair. 

“I’m glad,” she whispered. “I’m glad you’re here.”

For a while they just sat quietly, holding each other and feeling each other breathe, happy to be together.

Matt felt himself start to doze off, and twitched himself awake. “I guess I’d better go,” he said reluctantly.

“I guess so,” she answered, just as reluctantly. But it was easier to let him go now that they had a plan, something definite they could both look forward to.

She unwound her arms from around him, and he unwillingly did the same, and scooted to the edge of the bed to put his shoes back on. He retrieved his gloves from the bathroom, but before putting them on he reached out for her. She stepped into his arms, and he hugged her tightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome,” she answered. “I’m glad you stopped by.”

He smiled, suddenly amused by such a conventional description of his arrival. “By ‘stopped by’, you mean ‘climbed in the window at two in the morning’?”

“Yes, exactly,” she said, laughing a little.

He pulled back enough to cup her cheek in one hand, and kissed her, split lip be damned. It was worth the brief flare of pain to hear the pleased little sound that vibrated in her throat, to feel the way she melted against him and held him close.

He stepped back after a long moment, his hands lingering on her face, her shoulders. Finally, he reached for his gloves and mask, and put them on while Karen turned out the light.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, and then he opened the window, climbed out and was gone.

“Get home safe,” she whispered, unsure if he was still close enough to hear her. She closed the window, got back into bed, and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know the Hand are still around, but I didn't feel up to trying to imagine what, specifically, they might be doing at this point. So I decided they're lying low, and hoping that Daredevil thinks they're gone.
> 
> I also decided Matt doesn't know yet about the other Defenders--Jessica keeps a low profile, and Luke isn't yet widely known at this point. Season 1 of Luke Cage takes place after season 2 of DD, based on Claire's involvement, so this fic is set before Luke starts to get media coverage. And I'm assuming Danny will also be arriving after DD s2. So at this point, Matt feels pretty much alone in the fight.
> 
> eta: It's been pointed out that Matt _has_ actually probably heard about Luke by now. But I think it's still reasonable for Matt to be feeling overwhelmed by everything happening in his own area.


End file.
